


a little less terrible

by LiveLaughLovex



Category: The Code (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Past John "Abe" Abraham/Alex Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLaughLovex/pseuds/LiveLaughLovex
Summary: Abe had realized, a long time ago, that when you cared about someone - when you truly cared about them - then sometimes, your most important goal in life ended up being making whatever was going on with them seem even a little less terrible. As it turned out, Harper had realized this, too.
Relationships: John "Abe" Abraham & Harper Li, John "Abe" Abraham/Harper Li
Kudos: 3





	a little less terrible

**Author's Note:**

> It is important to me that you know they're detectives in this, even though it's never explicitly mentioned. I have many ideas for this 'verse, mostly because I've recently begun rewatching the very first season of _Bones,_ and I am getting SO MANY Abe/Harper vibes from early Brennan/Booth that I really couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Also, happy belated Christmas! I hope you had a good one, whether you were able to be with your family or not! :)

“You look like hell.”

Abe scoffed under his breath, then glanced up with a bitter smirk as his companion climbed carefully onto the barstool beside his own. “Hello to you too, Harper.”

“Hello,” she echoed perfunctorily, though not before rolling her eyes. “You look like hell.” She smiled pleasantly when his hazy glower simply intensified, offering an unrepentant shrug as she reached out, accepting the glass of Dom Perignon the bartender was offering her and lifting it to her lips for a brief moment, taking a shallow sip. “So,” she began, once she’d placed the wineglass back down on the bar, “am I here to get drunk with you, or were you thinking we might have an actual conversation about…” She trailed off, appraising him critically. “Well, about _whatever_ it is that’s got you on your sixth glass of bourbon at two o’clock in the damn morning.” She knocked her shoulder against his with a playful grin. “Talking about our feelings, Abraham. I hear that’s what the _actual_ adults are doing, these days.”

“Who says I’ve got any interest in _being_ an actual adult?” Abe muttered in response, heaving a defeated sigh when Harper simply tilted her head to the side, unamused and insistent. “I hate it when you do that with your face,” he informed her honestly, taking another long swallow of his drink and then placing the glass back down, glass rattling as he did.

She smiled serenely. “Well, I don’t know how to feel about that, seeing as I’m pretty sure this is just my face.”

“No, it’s not,” he protested. “I’ve got no problems with your face.”

She laughed under her breath. “You’ve got no problems with my face, huh? Well, I mean, it’s hardly the _worst_ thing a man has ever said to me…”

“That’s not… you’ve got a nice face,” he said honestly, though he internally winced when he caught sight of the way Harper’s face lit up at his words.

“Oh, so I’ve got a _nice_ face?” she teased lightly, grinning at him when he heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Well, that’s good to know, Abraham, thanks. You’ve got a nice face, too.” She quickly glanced at the collection of empty glasses accumulating in front of him, then met his eyes once more, seeming much more concerned for his wellbeing than she had just seconds earlier. “Seriously, though, Abraham, how drunk _are_ you?”

“I am… not entirely sure,” he admitted honestly, balancing the glass before him between two fingers. He studied it intently, as if the swallow of bourbon and three ice cubes it still held might somehow offer him the answers to all the questions he still couldn’t bring himself to ask aloud. “I’ve been here a while.”

“Yeah,” Harper sighed, gently prying the glass away from him and then setting it in front of the barstool next to her, well out of his reach, “I figured that one out all on my own.” She carefully pushed her glass of wine off to the side, as well, just for good measure. “Why are you in a bar at all? I thought you were staying with Alex and the girls tonight? Something about Dani having some sort of performance in the morning?”

“Alex and I broke up,” he told her bluntly, smirking sardonically when she winced sympathetically at the news, eyeing him with no small amount of compassion in her gaze. “See? There’s that face again.”

She schooled her features, though it was obvious she was doing it only for his benefit. “I’m sorry, Abe,” she said, looking genuinely upset on his behalf. “I know you and Alex were…”

He shook his head before she could finish that sentence. “The only thing we were successfully doing was fooling ourselves, Harper. You might not have ever come out and said you disapproved of my being with her, but I know you did. I know most people did. So please, for my sake, don’t lie to me and say that you are sorry my relationship is over, when we both know you’re not.”

“Okay, so maybe I’m not sorry your relationship is over,” she grudgingly acquiesced. “But I _am_ sorry that you’re hurting over it, Abe. I really am.” She reached over to squeeze his wrist briefly, then let go far too quickly for his liking. “And not everyone disapproved of your relationship. Trey…”

“Trey was blinded by his desire to see me happy,” he interrupted curtly. “He trained me. We rode in the same car together, twelve hours out of the day, every day for four years. I get an invitation to his family Thanksgiving every year. He wants me to be happy. He thought, like I did, that Alex would make me that way. As it turns out, we were both wrong.”

She nodded once, then glanced away from him. “Why did you call, Abe?” she questioned, sounding genuinely curious about his answer. “I mean, I don’t mind that you did. I really don’t. I’m, I’m happy about it, honestly. But I know that, in situations like this, you call Trey, usually, before you call me. I guess I’m just, I’m wondering why…”

“Because you’re my partner,” he explained, before she could even finish voicing her question. “And you’re…” He exhaled deeply, shaking his head. “As much as I despise the terminology, you really are probably my best friend, at the moment. You’re definitely one of the best I’ve ever had.” He glanced over at her, feeling oddly shy as he did so. “I’m having a terrible night,” he concluded quietly. “And I guess I called because I thought… well, I thought it’d be a little less terrible if you were here with me.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Well, were you right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, honestly, his smile a little tentative. “I was.”

“Glad to hear it.” She hesitated for a moment, then nodded once. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You always do,” he told her, truthfully.

That time, she was the one offering a tentative smile. “Yeah,” she murmured in agreement, head falling briefly to his shoulder, “so do you.”

And with that, the drinks before them – and the traumas they’d experienced – were briefly forgotten by the both of them as they sat there, talking and laughing and making each other feel alive and whole in that way only they ever managed to.


End file.
